


The Widows

by fringewrites



Series: We Can Be Happy Here [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Kissing, s04e01, s04e2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fringewrites/pseuds/fringewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth shut her book. In a sort of catatonic afterthought she approached a sign she’d found somewhere in the prison that was meant as a sort of labor area for the prisoners. Silently she divorced the print black three from the adjacent zero; she just held it in her hands, inspecting it. There went their lucky streak. She felt disappointed in a way that reminded her of losing a game of Jenga against her big brother Shawn. How carefully she’d maneuver her little fingers, picking just the right blocks to keep the structure stable. She imagined Zach as a block, carelessly poked out from near the middle of the tower by a stranger’s hand, maybe Daryl’s or Bob’s, but she didn’t want to blame anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Widows

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Walking Dead or its characters.
> 
> I know now that Beth was journaling when she found out about Zach, but I took some creative liberties. 
> 
> This part is so late because I was going to make it part four and sandwich a pining piece between this and Seeds, but I gave up. Might revisit the idea as a flashback episode.

 

            Beth was re-reading an old paperback copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ , lying on her belly, resting on her elbows, book laid in her hands, when she received the news. She can remember what she was thinking just before Daryl told her; that a book about the unjust execution of a falsely accused man might be a touch counterintuitive for prison morale. The irony had charmed her for a brief second, before Daryl slipped passed the curtain draped over the barred cell door, silent as a shadow and just as gloomy. Beth was pretty sure that Daryl was going to tell her someone didn’t make it back from the trip, he looked beat up enough about it, and it wasn’t as if it was uncommon for him to come to her to talk about it. Each time it was like he was coming to confession. The familiar shiver of fear ran down her spine when she finally realized what was _not_ typical about the picture in front of her, Daryl wasn’t looking her in the eyes.

            “It’s Zach.”

            “Is he dead?” it came out in a deep exhale, a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

 Daryl nodded silently, he went to push some hair out of his face, but decided he didn’t want Beth to see too much of him right then and gripped his arm awkwardly instead. Daryl mumbled in extrapolation and finally wagered a look up at the blonde. Beth’s usually expressive blue eyes were like windows wide shut to him, staring right at him but absolutely unreadable.

“Oh.” Beth shut her book. In a sort of catatonic afterthought she approached a sign she’d found somewhere in the prison that was meant as a sort of labor area for the prisoners. Silently she divorced the print black three from the adjacent zero; she just held it in her hands, inspecting it. There went their lucky streak. She felt disappointed in a way that reminded her of losing a game of Jenga against her big brother Shawn. How carefully she’d maneuver her little fingers, picking just the right blocks to keep the structure stable. She imagined Zach as a block, carelessly poked out from near the middle of the tower by a stranger’s hand, maybe Daryl’s or Bob’s, but she didn’t want to blame anyone.

Beth snapped out of the trance and placed the number down onto the metal filing cabinet the sign stood on. She looked at Daryl still standing in her doorway. Why was he still there? Did he need something? Oh. _Oh._

“I don’t cry anymore Daryl.” Beth explained quickly. It wasn’t untrue. It felt like it was ages ago, the last time they lost someone. Maybe it was Big-Tiny? No, Lori had died then too, and she definitely cried. It must have been one of the Woodbury folks, some kind of accident. She didn’t cry then. Then there had been a few close calls she hadn’t even flinched at. She’d been treading lightly with anyone who didn’t come to the prison from her daddy’s farm; maybe she just hadn’t noticed herself doing the same with Zach.

 Daryl didn’t look comforted by her reassuring him that she was okay. She thought about how Zach died, taken by a bunch of walkers, a brutal way to go. “Are you okay?” she finally asked. Daryl took every death personally; she was embarrassed she didn’t ask earlier.  She doesn’t remember what he said, it didn’t matter. She just wrapped her arms around him, told him it was a blessing they got to know Zach, tried to remind him of the good times. It was what her daddy would do.

When Daryl finally left her, she sat on the edge of her bed, folded over herself with her head in her hands. She caught a glimpse of a crinkly paper corner tucked under her mattress. Beth slid a Polaroid Glenn took out from between the mattress and the metal frame. Her and Rick were both smiling at Judith between them, whose mouth dripped with the sweet juice of her first watermelon. She reveled in the happy memory for a while until something new occurred to her. In the corner of the frame Zach was sat next to her, eyes still holding the light of a life that would fade into distant memory over time. He was looking at her like she was something brilliant. It was funny; Beth didn’t know he had been there. In that moment when Rick and she were waiting for Judith’s reaction, it had felt like just the three of them on that patio. She knew she felt guilty, but she didn’t want to admit it to herself. There was nothing to even feel guilty about right? No longer feeling like reminiscing, she folded the space Zach took up backwards before replacing the photo.

 

That night she dreamt about the sweet smell of sugary pecans warming in the oven and the warm feel of thick wool socks against her feet. She was sitting at a little round kitchen table with four Jenga blocks sat in a neat row in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Shawn make a sharp jabbing motion with a pencil in the direction of the tower between them.  She heard a single block bounce off the wooden table top.

 _“Would you be more careful? You coulda sent it crashin’ down you lunatic!”_ Beth laughed off the startled feeling still tense in her shoulders.

 _“But it’s still standing.”_ Just like Shawn. Nothing broken, nothing to talk about.

Beth woke up from her nostalgic dream to a horrific nightmare. Apparently Patrick had woken up dead sometime the night before and took out a good fraction of D-block. Sasha and Daryl were dragging corpses wrapped in blood stained sheets out the door and Carol had her arms curled around Mica and Lizzie like a human shock blanket. Everything around her was quiet casualties, swirling into a tunnel vision; all she could see was Rick stood by a cell Daryl and Sasha had just emerged from, and that Rick’s hands were _shaking._

“Please, get her out of here.” Rick said gesturing to the door not looking at Beth. Beth had been with Judith in the nursery when she was given the news and the all clear. She hadn’t even given it a second thought; she immediately went to account for the fallen, and insure the family they built could withstand the damage. She had to see her daddy, Maggie, Glenn, Daryl, _Rick._ None of them stayed in D-block, but they would’ve been the first ones there. She was still carrying Judy close to her chest when she found herself at Rick’s side. Now that she could see for herself, her family standing like solemn towers among the wreckage, she didn’t have any business left there.  Beth put a hand on Rick’s shoulder, extending the offer of someone to talk to later, and then headed back for the nursery.

 

Beth must have still been in a haze from all of the mayhem, because she nearly bumped into Carl who was stood outside the door of the nursery without having seen him.

“I thought maybe it would be okay if I could just stay with you and Judith for a while.” Carl shuffled from foot to foot running his fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

Beth nodded and opened the door to let him in. She let Carl sit down in the rocking chair before lowering his little sister into his arms. “Did they tell you what happened?” Beth asked cautiously.

Carl’s eyes darkened. “Not all of it. I know Patrick’s gone.”

“You doing okay? I know you guys hung out a lot.” Beth recalled the times she saw Patrick tagging along behind Carl, hunching his shoulders almost like he was trying to make himself as short as Carl. She remembered thinking it was nice that Carl had someone close to his own age around. She felt like things could be normal for Carl just like she’d been making it for Judy.

“I’m alright. He was a good guy. It’s just not fair you know?”

Beth nodded. “I know he respected you a lot.”

Carl smiled then. “Don’t know why. He was older than me.”

“That might’ve made a difference before all this,” Beth pointed out. They both knew age meant so little these days. Beth had seen how Carl had changed since they met. He was just a little kid that came into her home with a bullet in his torso, looking at him like that all she could see was another walker for the barn. When he recovered she learned he was a bright eyed little boy, looking to do what he could to pitch in. Then he shot that kid that was lowering his gun in the woods, she thought he was a cold killer, she remembered praying for his soul. Now she saw him like a young veteran. Like the boys Maggie went to school with who joined the military right after they graduated, that’d come home on leave looking like they’d seen too much. Carl had seen more, _done more_ than Patrick ever had to do. It was easy to see why Patrick would just naturally fall into Carl’s step, the way the whole family had with Rick.

“Are you okay?” Carl asked rubbing a hand over his sleeping sister’s back.

Beth looked at Carl puzzled for a moment before she could grip what he was referring to. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten. She was almost too mortified to speak. “I guess it hasn’t sunk in yet.” She admitted looking at the floor.

“So, did you love him?” Carl asked a little uncouthly. He felt the mistake immediately. “I-I’m sorry. You don’t have to-”

“It’s okay.” Beth interrupted. She thought a moment. Everyone was expecting her to feel something about Zach dying, she knew it was because they were together but she hadn’t really thought of the romantic implications of it all. It was beginning to bother her. No one from the family ever talked to her about Jimmy, and she had known him much longer than she knew Zach.  “I loved him like any Christian loves anybody.”

Carl nodded like he understood what she meant. Still, Beth felt a sick twist in her stomach being reminded of the scrutiny her mourning was under. “We both lost our moms,” Carl took a deep breath, “I saw your face when yours came out of the barn; I remember how you wanted to give up.” Beth held the bracelets that hung loose around her wrist, _the_ wrist. “Then what happened to my mom, what I had to _do…_ ” Carl looked away for a moment trying to blink back tears. “Do you think anything can ever hurt us again, you know, like that did?”

Beth thought about how terrified she felt when Daryl wouldn’t look at her the night before, and how Judith bounced in her arms as she ran for D-block that morning. She thought about Judith. “I hope we never have to find out.”

 

Beth was watching Judith’s chest bob up and down with each breath as she slept in the pack and play across from Rick’s cot. She had her knees drawn up against her chest, her back against the wall; she held her face in her hands and finally took her eyes off Judy to stare down at her feet. Pressing the heels of her palms tight against her eyelids Beth felt a dam break behind them. Her heavy shoulders began to shake as air trapped itself in her lungs. She made no sound but she felt the exertion of screaming.  She thrust her head to the ceiling and felt hot tears streak from her sore, bloodshot eyes to her chin. Her fingers twisted into her hair, she felt the urge to pull, but settled for gripping at the strands until she felt the roots strain painfully at her scalp. She let out her first whimper when Rick pulled the curtain aside.

“Hey hey hey hey.” Rick whispered as though he were shushing Judith’s cries. He sat down on the cot next to Beth and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Rick didn’t ask what was wrong, he was sure he knew. He simply kissed the top of her head and continued to make comforting noises. “I’m sorry-“he started.

“I’m just so happy.” Beth interrupted him. Rick pulled away enough to get a look at her face, confused and searching for some kind of clue behind the out of place statement. “I’m so happy and that’s not okay right? That’s terrible.” She buried her face in her hands.

“We could talk about it.” Rick urged her to elaborate. It did sound awful in the wake of all the death and the destruction, but he knew that this was tormenting Beth and he had to help.

Beth took in a big shaky breath; she steadied herself with a hand on Rick’s arm, resisting the urge to dig her nails into the skin. “When Daryl came to tell me that Zach was dead all I could think was ‘ _Thank God.’_ It coulda been Glenn. And then this morning, all those people died and when I finally got to D-block I was just so _happy._ People were still dyin’ when you all showed up, and all I could think was that it coulda been Maggie, or Daryl. It coulda been _you._ ” Beth choked on the last word, it had been the first name she wanted to say, but she wouldn’t let herself. “Everyone wants me to feel _something,_ some kind of miserable,but all I feel is relieved, not cause he’s gone but because he wasn’t…someone else.” Beth dragged her tears across the tops of her cheeks with her palm.

“That’s _some_ perspective.” Rick finally said after a long silence. “I’m glad it wasn’t Daryl too. I liked Zach, he was a good kid and he made you happy. I’m sad he’s gone. But it’s okay to be relieved too. It’s okay to be glad that Daryl came home, that your brother-in-law came home. Nobody is askin’ you to feel anything; they just think they got an idea of what you’re feelin’. People are gonna ask if you’re alright, but nobody’s gonna think you’re a monster just cause you’re fine.” Rick assured resting his forehead on the top of her head.

Beth sobbed. “But what if I am a monster?”

“You’re not.”

Beth felt her chest tighten with doubt. “I never told him about that night.” She confessed all in one quick breath “I never thought I had to tell him, not cause I wanted to make it work with him and just ignore it, and I don’t think it was cause I didn’t want to hurt him, but I think it was cause I didn’t think he’d make it far enough for it to matter.” Beth admitted. Rick was stunned; they hadn’t spoken about that night since it happened. The whole thing had kept him up for three nights, panicking about what a mess he’d put the both of them in. She was maybe eighteen when it happened; there was no way for them to be sure. It looked bad, it _was_ bad. He hoped they could forget about it and she seemed to be on the same page, she kept hanging out with Zach and things looked like they were going back to normal. He should’ve known it couldn’t last. “Do you regret it?” she asked.

Rick couldn’t look at her. He dug is fingernails into the palm of the hand on her shoulder. He should say yes. It wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear, and it wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it was the right thing. “I don’t know; and I’m _scared_ that means I _don’t_. I know I should, but I really don’t.” he confessed. “But if it hurt you,” his voice shook then, “then I would take it back, _whatever_ it took.”

Beth rubbed a gentle, thoughtless hand over his arm. She wasn’t sure what she’d wanted him to feel, maybe she wanted him to share her guilt initially, but making him feel like he’d hurt her made Beth disgusted with herself. “It’s fine. It was fine.” Beth said hoarsely. “I guess I just have questions.” She tilted her head back against the wall. Her breath was starting to sound like it was evening out but she still had a painful lump in her throat.

Rick wondered why Beth hadn’t come to him earlier if she had things to say to him, but the way she had asked if he regretted what happened gave him some clue as to why she’d avoided it. “You can ask me.”

Beth took a moment to take stock of all the thoughts that had been running through her head when she’d gotten back to her cell the night it happened, the fears, the doubts, and the hopes. “I’ve been with Judy all the time; I know you wish she could’ve had her real mama in her life. Was it cause I remind you of Lori?” Beth asked still not wanting to look him in the eye, but knowing she needed to.

It stung, but Rick knew it was a fair question. “No. No. The two of you are actually pretty different.”

“Was it cause I _don’t_ remind you of Lori then?” Beth had seen how Rick and Lori’s marriage suffered from a mixture of lies, infidelity, and a sprinkle of something that had to have existed before the dead started walking; it ran deeper than anything that had happened as long as she’d known them. Beth being nothing like Lori could certainly be an appealing change.

“It’s got nothin’ to do with Lori.” Rick answered sincerely albeit agitated. “I’m not sure _why_.” He thought for a moment, trying to imagine the moment he wanted to kiss her and all that preceded it, the second his eyes changed on her. “I just woke up one day and you had a place in my heart.” He confessed. “You snuck up on me.”

Beth could make a list of the things she thought he’d say. _‘I got caught up in the moment.’ ‘I don’t know what I was thinking.’_ She expected this to be about Rick slipping easily into the role of father and husband, the way Beth had filled the mother part. This was different in a way that terrified and delighted her. Beth couldn’t help but smile. “I hope you’re not expectin’ me to hop into bed with you over a little flattery Mr. Grimes.” She was half teasing and half testing the waters. Beth wasn’t foolish; she knew adult relationships came with adult expectations, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for anything like that.

Rick laughed but he knew he had to handle this delicately. Truthfully he hadn’t really thought about it. “No. I don’t need or expect anything from you, and I don’t want you thinking you have to do anything you don’t want to.”

So this was more than a mistake Rick made that night. Beth needed clarification. “This a secret?” she asked still feeling some concern over Rick’s intentions.

Rick balked at that. He couldn’t ask Beth to keep secrets; it would seal the notion that what they had was inherently wrong. “No. God no. It doesn’t have to be-“

Beth felt the relief of him giving her the right answer. “It’s okay I get it.”  Still, she considered how her family might react if she came to them to say her and Rick were more than friends. It _looked_ bad, but she might have been getting ahead of herself. What exactly was the extent of this thing they were catapulting themselves into? She decided she needed to know. “Still, I just don’t think we have to tell anyone. Not like much is changin’. It’s like before right? No new labels, same weird thing we were before, just closer.”

Rick never appreciated subtlety. It left too much room for misinterpretation. Beating around the bush like this was what had gotten him into trouble with Lori so many times. He didn’t want anyone getting hurt here. “You don’t have to be my girl. We don’t have to make any rules or promises.” He didn’t know just how to get across just how okay he was with something casual and undefined. He wasn’t sure it was his place to tell Beth about Daryl, and the two of them hadn’t set rules either. Rick wasn’t sure what he’d do if Beth had put him in a situation where he’d have to choose.

Luckily Beth seemed appeased by the flexibility he’d presented her with. “But if I wanted to kiss you again?” Beth asked looking up at him, Rick’s openness making her brave.

“All you’d have to do is come find me.”

 Rick’s lips curled into a smile just as Beth closed the space between them. Her hand slid up to cup his cheek, her fingers pushing up the dark brown and gray stubbly hair there just starting to get long enough to be soft. His lips slid smoothly against hers, fitting together like a perfect match. Kissing Rick again felt better than it had the first time because she knew how good it would be. It felt like coming home, slipping into sweat pants, and wiping off her makeup. It was like telling a best friend a heavy secret, or singing in the shower when no one was home. She felt more like herself and less alone than she had in weeks. Everything from the way he held her shoulder in one hand and her hair in the other, to the way the tips of their tongues passed against each other every so often, sang with relief and joy and something so good it couldn’t be wrong.


End file.
